He hadn’t gone to practice.S
I knew that.
Still, I let him leave the table.
Then I called Renee.
“He barely talks anymore.”
“Have you actually asked him what happened with Tyler?”
“I ask him if he’s okay constantly.”
“That isn’t the same question, Diane.”
I became defensive.
I was his mother.
I tracked his grades.
I remembered appointments.
I knew where he was.
Surely that meant I was paying attention.
Then summer came.
And suddenly, Lucas seemed better.
He started running every morning.
He changed what he ate.
He got a haircut.
His posture changed.
For the first time in months, he sometimes smiled at his reflection.
“You look good,” I told him.
“Thanks.”
I let myself believe the worst had passed.
Then the late nights began.
His laptop stayed open until one or two in the morning.
Whenever I entered his room, he angled the screen away.
“What are you doing?”
“Working on something.”
“What?”
“Just something, Mom.”
He said please when asking me to leave.
I heard rejection.
I should have heard a request for privacy.
Then sophomore year began.
Lucas guarded his phone.
He stayed up late.
He disappeared into his computer.
And instead of asking him directly what was happening, I did something I had promised myself I would never do.
While he was showering, I checked his phone.
There was a message thread with Ava.
The same Ava who had laughed while Tyler humiliated him.
Her messages were short.
Can you talk later?
Lucas replied:
Yes.
Then:
Are you sure about this?
I’m sure.
I felt cold.
I called Renee from the garage.
“He’s talking to her again.”
“Okay.”
“Okay? She humiliated him.”
“Maybe ask why they’re talking.”
“What if she’s manipulating him?”
“Diane.”
“What if someone is using him?”
“Ask him.”
Instead, I searched the internet.
Teen manipulation.
Online grooming.
School revenge.
Dangerous teenage behavior.
Every article gave my imagination another direction to run.
Fear loves incomplete information.
And I gave mine plenty.
Then Karen caught me outside the grocery store.
“Did you hear what Lucas did this morning?”
My stomach dropped.
“What?”
“He walked past Tyler and his friends. They didn’t even recognize him at first because he’s changed so much.”
I almost smiled.
Then Karen lowered her voice.
“Lucas turned around, looked Tyler straight in the face, and said, ‘You’ll get what’s coming to you.’”
My entire body tightened.
I drove home repeating those words.
You’ll get what’s coming to you.
What did that mean?
That evening, I stood in Lucas’s doorway holding tea I had made mostly as an excuse.
“So, what happened with Tyler today?”
